Snippet #2688618

"Sorry sir, no admittance without the proper credentials."

Saerin looked down at the small man blocking his path, whose skeletal index finger attempted to push him back as some sort of intimidating gesture. He wore the black suit of a noble with white frills exploding from his collar and sleeves. A pencil-thin mustache curled around both of his cheeks like a treble clef, and the top of his head shined nearly as brightly as the sharpened edges of the battleaxes wielded by the two oafish friends standing at his shoulders.

"No one seems to be stopping them," Saerin replied gruffly. He leaned back slightly before glancing left and right, the sudden change in resistance causing the smaller man to stumble slightly. On both sides, people streamed through the other entrances to the arena unimpeded. He turned back to the man in front of him, who was straightening his jacket.

"That, sir, is because they are regulars. Anyone here could vouch that they have been here before and behaved. Is there anyone here that would do the same for you?" A small voice (one of his clients?) began to rise in the crowd before being silenced by a raised fist from one of the cronies.

"I can speak up for this poor gentleman," a familiar voice chirped from the next entrance. Saerin glanced over, not surprised to see the green-suited man from the first day staring at him with a devilish grin. "He is a guest of honor! Bartholomew, please help me escort this gentleman to the VIP entrance." Saerin saw no point in arguing as the two rats and their guard dogs began to shove him around the side of the building. "Oh, we have much in store for you! A grand buffet on the mezzanine overlooking the fights, one of the best seats in the house, access to the most powerful men in our city..." The man continued to grandstand as they turned the corner into a dark, secluded alley adjacent to the arena. "Oh! And a knife for your liver."

The two large men suddenly heaved Saerin by the armpits into a nearby wall. He hit the ground, slightly winded but otherwise okay. The larger men placed a foot on the inside of each of his knees and held him up helplessly by his elbows. The green man pulled a small, unadorned dagger from beneath his coat. "You really thought you could get away with it, huh? Fixing our fights? I don't know how you do it so well, but it ends today. For you and your two little roommates."

"It came to my attention that various parties are interested in taking your... what? Granddaughter? out of the fight for good, along with her two companions. My cooperation is simply the fortuitous result of common interest." The dagger danced in his palm as he spoke. He suddenly looked up in anger. "Why are you so silent? Even at the end, the stoic fortuneteller."

"Indeed," Saerin said. "We all play our parts until the bitter end."